Experiments
by ConnorCat
Summary: When John decides that he's going to perform an experiment on Sherlock for once, the detective knows a lot more about his plan than John thinks. No slash. Written in first person, John's POV. Reason stated in author's note.


**Author's Note: **_I had to write a narrative to time this morning for my English class. I wasn't sure if FanFiction was allowed, but well, too bad, really haha. So I thought I would share it with you. It's short. 830 words or so. Nothing but drabble. No slash, just something silly I came up with. We had to use a particular phrase and mine was "the sound of hot dogs sizzling on a grease-spattered grill gave way to the whirring buzz of a cotton-candy machine". I think you know where this is going xD  
As I said, it's not that great. But it will give you something to read whilst chapter 9 of "Savin Me" is underway :) Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: **_Still don't own Sherlock._

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I glanced sideways from my seat in the cab at my flat mate, who seemed more unhappy than usual. He had his long, black trench coat pulled tightly around his body and his arms folded crossly over his chest. I chuckled to myself lightly, trying not to give away that I found this situation absolutely hilarious, but no avail. The detective fully turned himself to face me and glared hard, his blue eyes practically daring me to make another sound. But this only made me laugh harder, the look of seriousness on his pale face too much. I felt my body trembling with giggles.

"This isn't funny, John."

I wiped a stray tear. "Oh, but it is. In fact, it's damn hilarious."

"You were clearly deprived of a childhood, considering you're forcing me to attend this so called 'fun' fair." The detective frowned, recrossing his arms sulkily.

"No, I wasn't. I went to heaps of fairs when I was a kid. But you perform your experiments on me, so I'm going to do my own on _you_."

I received a sniff in reply and stared out the window, continuing to smile. As the cab drove around the bend onto the next main road, I could see a large, colourful rollercoaster peeking out over the top of the wall surrounding where the fair was situated. There were yellow bouncy castles and rides that went up high to the sky and then dropped down back to the ground. I couldn't wait to get my flat mate in there. I had a fifty quid bet with Mrs Hudson, our landlady, that by the end of the day he would leave the amusement park saying he had enjoyed himself. I was also betting that he would crack at least one smile during the day.

"It's not too late to turn back around, John. We could go back to Baker Street and watch crap telly if you wanted…"

I was not backing down. "Why would I want to watch telly when I can go to a fun fair with my best friend? Are you afraid you'll enjoy yourself, Sherlock?"

"Me? Enjoy doing something that doesn't involve murder cases? Really, John. We've been flat mates for months now; I thought you knew me better than that." He scoffed.

I had to laugh. "You can go and check out the police display in the big pavilion if you want. Greg and Sally will be there. I'm sure annoying them will keep you entertained."

The detective sighed in what I imagined was defeat and then the cabbie pulled up to the curb across from the fun fair entrance. I pulled out a few notes and handed them over, a feeling of excitement and mischievousness passing through me as the paper brushed against my fingers.

As I stepped out of the vehicle, I was greeted with a chorus of screams and laughter escaping from the park across as the rollercoaster I saw earlier did a loop the loop and the bouncy castle quivered as children bounced on it. I grinned. This was going to be great. I couldn't wait to get Sherlock in there and force him to join me on thrill rides, eat rubbish food, collect show bags and go see the petting zoo.

We paid our fee at the entrance and I dragged Sherlock in by the sleeve of his coat, heading toward the food stalls first. I wasn't actually all that hungry, but the sound of hot dogs sizzling on a grease-spattered grill gave way to the whirring buzz of a cotton-candy machine. My mouth honestly had started to water; fun fair food was always disgustingly delicious and despite being a doctor I knew I had to give into temptation.

"Want a hotdog?" I asked my flat mate as we stood in line at the stall.

He pouted. "I'm not hungry."

"Fine, suit yourself."

When it was my turn to place my order, a hotdog with the lot and a bottle of coke, I noticed Sherlock was missing. With a frown, I began to scan the area for a mass of curls atop of a tall figure in a trench coat, but he was no where to be seen. Figuring he had tried to escape, I hastily took my food from the hotdog stall and headed over to the exit with a frown when I felt someone tug on my arm. I turned to see a very excited looking Sherlock.

"John, John, there's _blue _cotton candy!"

"Yes. I know. What's your point?" I smirked slightly.

Sherlock tugged on my sleeve and bounced on the spot like a child. "Please can I have some? Please? And then can we go on the dodgem cars?"

With a shrug, I led him over to the stall. I smiled at the young girl serving us and she gave me a quizzical look, amused. She handed over the cotton candy to me and I presented Sherlock with an enormous stick of fluffy, blue sugar.

"Happy now?"

The detective gave a smug grin. "You do your experiments, I do mine."


End file.
